


Head-colds & Legitimate Anger

by supercasey



Series: Red Vs. Blue One-Shots [13]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Acting Like Kids, Arguing, Bad Decisions, Bickering, But Not Bitters Or Palomo, Chicken Soup, Comfort, Comforting, Cuties, Epic Friendship, Female Friendship, Food Poisoning, Friendship, Idiots, M/M, Male Friendship, Napping, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Platonic Male/Male Relationships, Sickfic, Sickness, Smith Is, Soup, They're Not, They're Supposed To Be Adults, Well - Freeform, friends - Freeform, naps, sleeping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-12
Updated: 2014-07-12
Packaged: 2018-02-08 13:10:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1942410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supercasey/pseuds/supercasey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Bitters is a dumbass and eats Captain Grif's expired food. Also known as the time the other lieutenants took care of Bitters and happened to be half-alien people, but that's kinda normal around here.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Head-colds & Legitimate Anger

Head-colds & Legitimate Anger

Description: In which Bitters is a dumbass and eats Captain Grif's expired food. Also known as the time the other lieutenants took care of Bitters and happened to be half-alien people, but that's kinda normal around here.

...

The day was like any other in the Rebel Camp; soldiers were training, captains were arguing loudly, leaders were sighing, and mercenaries were laughing like children. Water tumbled down ceremoniously from a waterfall nearby, giving a sort of homier feel to the whole campsite, but nobody really commented on it or even really noticed, keeping their focus on their training sessions and side conversations. It was a particularly nice day, considering no one had died the night before from disease or from any battles, so everyone was in a relatively good mood... except for a few certain lieutenants.

"Palomo!"

"Aw, fuck." Palomo muttered, momentarily ignoring Mathews as Jensen ran towards him, being the person who had yelled. "What did I do this time, Katie?"

"You tell me!" Jensen demanded, glaring at the younger man. "What did you fucking give to Bitterth?"

Palomo raised an eyebrow at Jensen, helmet stationed under his arm as he scratched his head in thought. "Other than sneaking him cigarettes in training... I got nothing, man."

Jensen sighed, shaking her head. "Dammit, now what am I gonna do? Bitterth ith ath thick ath a dog and Thmith ith trying to find out whatth wrong with him! I thought you'd know for thure..."

"Well, I'm sure he just ate something expired or something like that; you know how much of a dumbass he can be about expiration dates." Palomo said, smiling reassuringly at the older girl. "Where is he?"

"Barrackth." Jensen stated, pointing towards where the exact grouping of tents were. "Careful though, Thmith ith thill trying to make him thop bitching."

Palomo nodded, walking past her before pausing. "Any warnings?" He asked quickly, wringing his hands together anxiously.

"If you enjoy having clean clotheth, go naked." Jensen suggested, running off to grab whatever it is she may have needed. "Tell Thmith I'll be back with thome medth in a few minuteth!"

"Got it!" Palomo called, taking off to check up on Bitters, silently wondering what he had just gotten himself into.

"Wait for me!" Mathews yelled suddenly, rushing to keep up with Palomo. "I could help too, you know."

"No offense, Mathews, but.... maybe you should stay here." Palomo suggested. "I mean, what if it's contagious? I'll suffer alone if I don't have anyone else my own age to talk around here."

"Oh... okay..." Mathews muttered, walking off, looking like a kicked puppy. "Not like I wanted to help my teammate get better or anything..." He took off; Palomo could hear soft sobs in the distance.

Palomo sighed in defeat. "Dammit," He said, shaking his head. "Now I made Mathews cry... shit..." He stormed off in the direction of the barracks, already knowing it was gonna be a long day.

...

"Dude, please, just stop." Bitters begged/asked Smith, his face in his hands as he sat up on his cot. "You're terrible."

"I can do this." Smith assured Bitters, still attempting at playing the much younger man's guitar. "Just give me a minute... like riding a bicycle..."

"You have never played the guitar before; those stories about you being in a band in your heyday are such bullshit." Bitters claimed, sighing before choking, coughing loudly throughout the tent. "Motherfucker." He whispered angrily, rubbing his throat.

"I'm here!" Palomo yelled, entering the tent, he paused as Smith shushed him, still trying to play the guitar.

Bitters rolled his chocolate colored eyes. "No one asked you to come, Palomo."

"Well, I did, and I'm staying to help." Palomo said, seating himself beside the bed. He looked to Smith, the oldest and most professional out of all of them. "What's the story?"

"Jason here ate Captain Grif's million year old snack cake or something like that." Smith explained, handing Palomo the wrapper. "He's been whining about an upset stomache since six, and it's only gotten progressively worse."

Palomo's eyes widened upon reading the wrapper. "These things were banned years ago; how... you know what, never mind, I wanna know why Bitters even ate the damn thing."

"Fuck off, Palomo." Bitters groaned, rolling over as pain soared through his body momentarily. "Can't you see I'm sick and helpless? Show some fucking respect!"

"For what, eating a long since expired food product?" Palomo asked, tossing the wrapper in a trash can nearby. "There's nothing to respect."

Bitters glared at Palomo harshly. "You know what, that's it, come 'ere!" He jumped at Palomo, who was unprepared for the assault and had little time to move.

Smith sighed, watching Bitters sluggishly attempt to beat the living fuck out of Palomo, who did his best to simply just take it, not bothering to fight back. "Now, boys..." Smith trailed off, shaking his head.

Jensen suddenly entered, followed by a sniffling Mathews. "What I mith?" She asked, giving Bitters and Palomo a less than impressed look.

"The kids are fighting." Smith stated blandly, suddenly giving Mathews a concerned look. "You okay, kiddo?"

Mathews nodded, wiping his eyes before smiling at Bitters. "Bitters! I came over here to help you feel better!"

"Aw, fuck that, Mathews!" Bitters yelled over his attack on Palomo, which was becoming progressively less of a fight and more of a sweaty wrestling match. "Last time you helped me out, I ended up with a bullet in my ass!"

"That was just one time!" Mathews insisted, frowning in disappointment at the older boy. "I just wanna help..."

Smith finally sighed, standing up. "Alright, that's it." Without another word, he picked up both Palomo and Bitters individually, holding them up by the scruffs of their necks. "Both of you quit your fighting right now, do you understand?" His tone was stern, yet somewhat gentle.

Bitters rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest with a pout for added effect. "Whatever." He muttered, glaring at Palomo. "But if you say one more thing about me eating that shitty snack, I'm gonna rip off your dumb fucking tail and feed it to the Feds!"

Palomo whimpered deep inside of his throat, wrapping his long tail around his middle and griping it protectively. "And here I thought you'd be less mean when sick..."

"I'm not hearing an apology out of either of you..." Smith announced, glaring momentarily at both Palomo and Bitters, who were smart enough to be scared of the older man. "Go on now..."

"... I'm sorry that you're a piece of shit, Palomo." Bitters said, smiling at the younger teenager in a mocking fashion. Smith glared at him as a result. "What? I'm making a point here!"

"Well, I'm sorry that you're a dumb sack of shit who eats expired food." Palomo replied, with all of the wording of a smartass.

Smith sighed, shaking his head. "Close enough." He decided, letting go of them both. Bitters rubbed his neck as he was tossed unceremoniously onto the bed, Palomo rubbed his tail in worry of Bitters's threat while Mathews tucked Bitters in like a worried mother. "Now stay in bed, Bitters; that sickness won't ware off if you keep doing so much physical activity."

"You realithe you're talking to Jathon Bitterth, right?" Jensen asked, raising an eyebrow at Smith for confirmation.

"Hey, don't tease the sick kid!" Bitters ordered, smirking when Jensen glared at him. "It's not nice to make fun people who are unwell."

"We're all a bit unwell, Bitters." Smith announced, wringing out a wet washcloth beside the cot over a water bucket. "Lay still, I need to get you a new washcloth."

"Buzzkill." Bitters muttered, but none-the-less lied still, obeying the older lieutenant's wishes. "How much longer until I can sit up?"

"I shouldn't be letting you up in the first place." Smith said, finally placing the washcloth over Bitters's forehead; the teenager hissed, trying to get away, but Smith held a firm hand over his chest, keeping him still. "Just try and sleep."

Bitters whined, frowning at Smith. "I can't." He explained sadly, sounding like a three-year old with the fashion he whined with.

Mathews smiled. "Maybe I can help, Bitters!" He said, taking Smith's place beside Bitters's bed, beginning to rub the older teen's stomach soothingly. "Soft kitty, warm kitty, little ball of fur! Happy kitty, sleepy kitty, purr purr purr!" He sang, rubbing in circles. "Feel any better?"

"Great, now I'm more sick than I was earlier. Thanks alot, Mathews." Bitters replied, glaring at the younger boy. "Fuck off!"

"Be nice..." Smith ordered, but it came out like a growl as he grabbed a can of soup, examining it lamely. "Is this edible?"

"If you don't know, don't feed it to him!" Palomo yelled, shushing when everyone glared at him. "Oh, so if I yell, everyone gets mad, but if Bitters does, he doesn't get shushed?"

"You're louder than a freight train." Jensen reminded Palomo, giving Bitters an almost sympathetic look before turning to Smith, looking at the can in his hand. "Yeah, that'th chicken noodle thoup." She said, reading the Covenant writing easily. "Where'd you get it?"

"Kimball." Smith replied, opening the can carefully, as to not completely destroy it in the process. He used his claw like fingers to break into the top of it, smiling when the lid popped off after a few turns. "Keep your eyes on him while I go cook this; if he tries to leave, knock him out."

Palomo grinned evilly at Bitters. "Yes, sir." He replied.

Bitters froze, but then glared at Palomo, unafraid of the younger boy's threat against his person. "Try, and I break every bone in your dumb, tiny body."

"Play nice." Smith instructed before leaving, the tent flaps waving before they settled after being disturbed by his departure.

"Well, there goeth our voithe of reathon." Jensen said, watching the tip of Smith's tail disappear out the door. She turned to Mathews, looking a bit concerned. "How'th our local geniuth?"

At the scene of Bitters vomiting into a nearby empty bucket, Palomo shrugged. "As good as he'll ever be." He announced, sighing deeply to himself.

Jensen groaned, dropping her head into her hands, much like how Bitters had twenty minutes ago. "Thith ith gonna be a long day." She stated, shaking her head along with Palomo, while Mathews rubbed Bitters back, to which he complained.

...

"I'm telling you, Simmons; Superman would not win in a fight with Spiderman!" Grif argued, shaking his head as he walked beside Simmons. "It's just not possible!"

"Shut the fuck up, you don't know that!" Simmons yelled right back, trying his best to win the argument; it was just one of those days, as in a normal one, considering that this was pretty standard for them. "Can we just change the subject already?"

Grif groaned, attempting to walk ahead, Simmons easily kept up though. "I'm gonna kill him when I find that motherfucker!"

"What're you going on about now?" Simmons asked, following the shorter man as he headed towards the lieutenant's barracks. "What's wrong?"

"It's mutiny, Simmons; pure mutiny!" Grif yelled, stomping his feet as he yanked off his helmet, glaring at the dirt path ahead. "Mathews never showed up for training this morning; that kissass is never late!"

"Maybe he got caught up in some shit?" Simmons suggested, watching as Grif stopped in front of Bitters's tent. "What're you doing here? This is Bitters's tent."

"Yeah, but he's the only guy who's gonna know where that tiny fucker Mathews is." Grif explained, waltzing right on in. "You'll se-"

"Shh!" Smith whispered/growled, glaring at the door before softening, standing up and saluting. "Captains." He greeted respectfully.

Simmons looked around; Bitters was out like a log in his bed, Jensen was nodding off in a chair by his side, Palomo was passed out along with Mathews on the floor at the foot of the bed, and Smith was reading a book in a chair on the other of Bitters. "What is all of this?" He asked curiously.

"Well, Lieutenant Bitters here came down with a rather... nasty sickness; we all stopped by to help him get better, but it seems we stayed longer than we would've expected. Sorry for any trouble we may've caused with our sudden disappearance."

Simmons waved him off. "It's nothing; Caboose got his head stuck in the microwave again and Tucker, Felix, and Kimball had to get him out. Training was cancelled, except fatass here still wanted Mathews to help him with stealing food- I mean 'Special Ops Training'." He glared at Grif, who shrugged in response. "We'll leave you be."

With that, they left the tent. As soon as it closed, both Simmons and Grif shivered, exchanging worried looks. "Dude, did you... see their tails...?"

"And those eyes?" Simmons added, gulping. "Yeah, man. Geez, who knew... oh my God, that was just wrong!"

Grif nodded in agreement, walking away. "I... I've decided not to do Special Ops Training today..."

"Yeah, good idea." Simmons said, waltzing off in another direction.

"Hey, where're you going, kissass?" Grif asked, watching the taller and lankier man leave. "You're not ditching me, are ya'h?"

"Naw, I'm... I'm just gonna go lie down and re-think everything..." Simmons explained, leaving Grif alone in the Rebel Camp, only the sound of the waterfall left for the orange space marine.

...

A/N: This is a continuation of Golden Nights, but I added in half-alien stuff for the lieutenants because I saw drawings of them like that and I thought it was a really cool concept. Also, my older sister Lisa once stated that all she wanted was half-alien lieutenants and I couldn't pass up the offer.


End file.
